Friendly Advice
by LiveAndLetRain
Summary: In the aftermath of the events that resulted in his split from Batman, Dick Grayson is faced with a very important decision.


**This takes place in the "Lost Years" of Young Justice. I have more about that time, and hope to post some of it relatively soon. In the meantime, enjoy this teaser ficlet!**

**I do not own Young Justice, nor DC. If I did, we would not have this weird phenomena known as "The New 52".**

* * *

Wally was neck-deep in financial aid application paperwork when his phone buzzed, announcing an incoming text with the accompanying sound effect that meant it was from Dick. He glanced at it curiously, then threw a pleading glance at his slave-driv- girlfriend. Artemis rolled her eyes and nudged it closer, her actions failing to hide her concern.

They had all been worried about Dick since the…events of last month.

The text was short and simple. "Want to show you something." He turned the phone so Artemis could see and put on his "begging face".

Artemis rolled her eyes again and pointed at the door. "Go you idiot."

He was gone and half-way to Mount Justice before she'd finished the first syllables.

Dick's room was…not really there. Wally blinked as he took in the packed boxes (all three of them) and the bare walls. Dick himself was in a weird, contorted version of a one-handed hand-stand on the bare floor, shuffling through some papers. He didn't look up as Wally entered, but he waved him in anyway.

"Hey Wally! I'm designing a new suit and I wanted your opinion on a couple of ideas."

"What's all this?" Wally waved a hand to indicate the boxes.

Dick flipped gracefully onto his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I got an apartment. And the paperwork came in," he nodded at a couple of official-looking envelopes on the stripped bed. "I am now officially emancipated and have my GED." He dropped down, sitting cross-legged (or his version of it anyway) on the floor. Wally joined him.

"Where's the apartment?" he grinned and hoped it didn't look as weak as it felt.

Dick suddenly became very interested in the far wall. "Blüdhaven."

If Wally had been drinking anything, he's pretty sure he would have snorted it. "Blüdhaven. Are you insane? Dick, that city is worse than Gotham!"

"Which is why they need a cape." Dick replied, irritatingly calm. "Or mask really, I think I'm done with the cape. It has a cool effect, but it gets in the way."

"But Blüdhaven?" Wally sputtered. "You couldn't start out somewhere a bit less…dark for your first solo gig?"

Dick frowned at him. "I'm sixteen Wally, I've been doing this for half of my life. I have more field experience; solo, partner, team, than most of the Justice League."

Wally flopped with a moan of irritation, wincing as the back of his head connected with the concrete of the floor. The ceiling was made of smooth, impersonal metal. He turned his head to look at his best friend instead. "Dude, just because you've been in the game since you were eight doesn't mean you have to keep playing it forever." He paused. "And officially, you've only been active since you were nine anyway. Which means it hasn't been quite half your life."

Dick gave him an unimpressed look.

"I'm not saying you should stop." Wally continued, knowing that if he gave Dick a chance to interject the conversation would be over. "But maybe…not start with Blüdhaven?"

"I've already paid my first month's rent."

Wally sighed and rolled over. "So. Why the new suit?"

Dick dropped his head onto his knees. "Bruce made Jason Robin."

"Ouch."

"I don't…I'm…I'm not…whelmed, exactly," Dick explained, his face hidden and voice muffled. "But…Jay came and talked to me about it. He didn't want to be Robin unless I was okay with it. I told him I was."

Wally scowled and nudged his friend with his toe. "Clearly, you aren't."

"What choice did I have?" Dick turned his face so that he was looking at Wally, most likely unaware of how clearly the hurt showed in his bright blue eyes. "I don't want Jason to get caught in the cross-fire between me and Bruce. He doesn't deserve that."

"But…" Wally prompted.

"It wasn't his to give." Dick whispered. "It was never his to give. Robin…" He drew a shuddering breath and Wally had the horrible realization that he was moments away from breaking down in tears. "Robin was _Dya's_ name for me. She gave it to me. And it's my _familia's_ colors. Bruce had no right to take them away, and now-"

And then he _was_ crying and all Wally could do was sit up and pull his best friend into a hug, as that friend mourned the loss of the last tangible connection he had to his dead family.

It took a couple of moments, but Dick calmed down and pulled away, his reluctance practically a physical being. Wally flopped back down onto his stomach. "So, designs?"

Dick gave him a grateful look and pushed a couple of papers towards him. Wally rested his chin on his arms as he studied them. "Nightwing?"

Dick shrugged. "Something Superman told me about when I was younger. A Kryptonian vigilante."

Wally nodded and flipped the paper over.

"Oh hell no!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

Wally waved the paper at him. "More like, what isn't wrong. Dude, this is worse than the scaly greens."

Dick scowled at him. "There was nothing wrong with those. They didn't restrict my movement at all and I liked them. Why did I let you convince me to redesign my Robin suit again?"

Wally knew the look on his face was blank incredulity. "Uhh…because you were eleven and wanted a friend that wasn't Roy badly enough that when I said there was no way I could keep being friends with someone wearing sparkly underwear you took it seriously. Sorry about that by the way." He smiled sheepishly, a little ashamed. "I was thirteen and never thought before I spoke?"

"Dude," Dick rolled his eyes, the resemblance between him and Artemis was uncanny. "You still don't think before you speak." He snatched the…sketches back. "Why are these so bad?"

"They aren't," Wally said. "As long as you want to be called Discowing and have absolutely no one take you seriously. What is the deal with that collar thing anyway?"

"Shut up, it looks fine!" Dick growled, obviously getting defensive.

Wally sighed, sat up, and pulled him into a half-hug, feeling Dick relax, apparently almost against his will. He couldn't help but feel a little smug. "Dude, we're bros right."

The younger boy nodded slowly, his eyes wary.

"Well, bros don't let bros dress like_…that."_

Dick got that stubborn look on his face that he seemed to have been wearing a lot more recently. (Where had the sweet little kid gone?) And Wally decided to call in reinforcements. He sent a quick text and stuck his head out into the hallway.

"Hey, Kaldur! Could you come in here a sec?"

The sound of Kaldur's entrance was covered by the Zeta's announcement of _Recognizing Artemis, B07._

"What is this about?"

"What's wrong?"

Wally snatched the sketches from Dick and passed them to Artemis and Kaldur. "Dickie here is designing a new suit. He thinks, for some madcap reason, that this is an acceptable option." He's pretty sure that Kaldur actually got a little green around the gills and the look on Artemis' face was priceless.

Artemis looked up first. "No, Dick. Just," she shook her head vehemently, her loose blonde hair flying free like a cloud of gold…Wally mentally pinched himself. _Focus!_ "No. If Wally and I both have the same opinion on an outfit, then you know it's bad." She studied the sketch thoughtfully, that adorable little wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. "The color is good, blue suits you but this design?" she shook her head again. "Not a chance."

Kaldur nodded, still staring at the paper in his hand. "I have to agree my friend."

He left it at that, but Wally was positive there was some sort of panicked rant going on in his head about leadership and appearances and what kind of impression you want to give.

Dick nodded and rolled into a boring old hand-stand. "Okay. Thanks guys." He went from upside-down to right-side up. "Do you mind helping me redesign it?"

Wally's jaw dropped. "What? You listen to them _that_ easily? Why did I get a 'shut up Wally, it looks fine?'"

Dick grinned at him. "Because your fashion sense sucks."

"Pot, kettle, kettle, pot." Artemis muttered, already seated on the floor and scribbling away at the paper. Wally ignored her.

"My fashion sense is awesome! In fact," he frowned down at his girlfriend and best friend, who was now leaning over her shoulder. "It's asterous."

Two faces looked up at him skeptically and Kaldur gave an awkward little cough.

"Sorry, but no. Who wears a uniform that makes him look like a giant condiment bottle again?"

"Arti!" Wally said, aware that he was whining and not caring in the least. _"Why?"_

She just turned back to the paper and kept talking to Dick. "See, you want stream-lined yes, you got that, but without the…extras. And probably more black, since you are primarily a stealth operative. With a little blue in here, you'll need to make a design for that by the way…"

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_Dya_ \- a Romani word for mother, used primarily in Britain as far as I can tell. Which works, because in my little head-cannon/alternate continuity, Mary Grayson nee Lloyd is from Wales.

On which note I feel like I should specify that I am very aware that, in the comics cannon, Dick's connection with his Romani ancestry is tenuous at best, and only comes from his paternal grandmother. However I feel like the path that Young Justice took by making Haly's an internationally traveling circus, as well as extending the Grayson family, opened up a whole lot of possibilities, which then invaded my headcannon. It's pretty much a safe bet that anything I write for the Batfamily, unless specified otherwise, exists on an alternate earth, why don't we call it Earth-934, which in turn has many variations because I am a very distractible person who can't settle on just one continuity. This is Young Justice Earth-934.


End file.
